A/N: So guys, how was the first chapter? I don't expect you to say anything other than THAT WAS GREAT! I'm kidding,
as you fundamentally should know. Say whatever you want. Constructive criticism is preferred above all other things, no
wait…not above compliments though. What I'm really afraid of, though, is if the spacing is too small and it is difficult to
read. Report please….same disclaimer, same old thing so don't bother me. Inspiration comes and goes.
Chapter 2:
Who do you think you are? Draco
I swore that was not the same girl who I had loathed for the last five years. She had changed every bit of her. A comment
like "Mudblood" last year would have made her blown her top, but this year I said it twice and all I got is a twitching in
her gut. No fair. I loved taunting and torturing her. Well, not really I guess, it was more of a pastime. I mean, which
Mudblood couldn't get away without a Malfoy mocking her? Something of routine. Yes, that was right. A routine.
Something that had to be done. I guess I liked watching people's reactions. See them get mad at you, ah…the pleasures of
humans.
Since she could not see me due to her excessive watching of the frosty windows, I took the opportunity to study her hard.
God, she had transformed so much…From a minute teacher's pet with absolutely no shape to a dark angel with a very
distinctive figure. I noticed the ball of pointy thing she displayed oh-so-valiantly on her belly. I recognized it as what the
muggles referred to as a…a belly ring. I thought that was quite inventive of muggles. I mean, which wizard could have
come up with the idea of that? Contrary to popular belief, I really did not mind muggleborns. They were quite nice to
know actually, very intellectual. I wondered how they survive without magic, but somehow they did and that made them
remarkable. Don't tell my father I said that though. My father will have nothing whatsoever to do with muggleborns.
He is the right-hand man of the Dark Lord after all. Well I think I should explain to the sticky situation of my father
then. It's only right to let my fans know about me. Right? (A/N: note that Draco Malfoy is a very high on his horse
kind of guy and that wouldn't be changing that much in this story. If you're expecting a love story with Draco
Malfoy suddenly going soft and becoming Hermione's wagging tailed dog, your expectations are going to be highly
disappointed. Love story I can promise you, but please not the softy bit.) My father is a very strict man, as I'm sure all
of you know, and he occasionally has the urge to pummel me here and there. What do you think I got Quidditch
muscles for? I am not allowed to defy him, yes, but I can actually block myself from feeling the hits by building up my
physique. Hopefully, one day I can stop him from doing so all together. You may think that as the child of a semi-
abusive father, I will naturally hate him, but that is as far away from the truth as you can get. I hmm…how do I put
this? Well, we have a mutual understanding and that's all we need to know each other and respect each other. I feel
for my father, because to the shock of all of you, Lucius Malfoy does not like the Dark Lord at all. Oh no, many a times
my father would come back from death eater meetings and complain to me about the abuse he has to take. He warns
me never to get caught in the dark arts, but how can that be so? I will get killed. So I have to. My father may hate
muggleborns, but he has no intentions to kill anyone. My father only became a death eater when my harsh and
eccentric grandfather forced him into the circle of it because my grandfather liked the name "Voldermort". Crazy fool.
Now because of his preference, the whole Malfoy bloodline is going to be condemned to a life of serving Voldermort.
Hate him and I hate him bad. And that's the end of the story and they all live happily ever after. The end.)
Now back to the story. Too much rambling. I glanced at her belly again. Granger had been exercising hadn't she? I could
see well-defined bumps of muscle on her stomach. Not bad really, for a Mudblood. My eyes traced the surface of her
stomach up to her chest. I could not resist a slight smirk. Granger had grown in the right places…Black went well with her
as well; it made her ashen complexion very nearly glow. The rusty red highlights in her hair brought out her extremely
unique eye color, an oak-like hue. My eyes automatically trailed down to her lips. Against the sunlight, the contour of her
plush lips was accentuated, and it shone.
I dismissed these thoughts casually, putting it up to teenage raging hormones. After all, Granger was still Granger and how
she looked made no difference to me; she was still a know-it-all who put even the legendary Potter to shame. Oh yes,
speaking of Potter, where were the two squirrel-faced freaks, Potter and Weasley? Last I had heard, Potty was known as
Lightning. Maybe his over-eager sidekick called himself thunder. Dear God knew he was loud enough to be deemed that.
Weasley. I mentally shook my head mock-sorrowfully. Poor guy, and not only metaphorically too. He was dirt poor and
his house was probably the shabbiest in the wizarding world. He might have flourished under the Dark Lord, as my father
once confessed. Hey, we had to give Weasley some credit, at least he was smarter than Crabbe and Goyle combined…but
that was not saying much too…
Snapping out of my pointless reverie, I decided to kill the limitless time and irritate the devil out of Granger. It was fun
seeing her squirm. So, feeling particularly mild before warming up to my extraordinarily imaginative ideas, I just placed
my feet, along with the shoes as well, on the seat net to her body on the whole, exceedingly hard. I watched as the seat rose
and fell gracefully, bumping poor, sad Granger along not so gracefully. Her eyes widened in aggravation, furrowing her
brow in frustration. I saw the battle raging in her eyes: should she keep up the façade or should she just explode. I prayed it
would be the latter. The cold shoulder treatment was getting to me. Contrary to my wishes, she just scowled lightly and
went back to window- watching. Dang. Heaving a dramatic sigh, I started tapping my heels on the floor, making annoying
clicking noises, which even I admit was getting on my nerves after a little while, and besides, my feet were getting tired
and painful. I guess Granger knew that too, because I saw a hint of a smirk on her face when I took a break, and it vanished
when I started up again, instead replaced by an expression of a little exasperation.
Unable to keep up my good work, I stamped down once, ferociously, causing the carriage to shake a little. She made a
minute, almost indiscernible, 'tsk-ing' sound and flinched. I waited in silence for her reaction.
All of a sudden, she slid out of her bizarre-looking shoes and wriggled her toes. I stared at them apprehensively. What was
she doing? Were her evil little toes doing wandless magic? Was this a new spell? Was she muttering funny-sounding
words? She reached over to my feet, which were still stinging from the blow, and I winced involuntarily, my panic
heightening with every centimeter she drew closer. Was she going to put me under a spell? Instead, a shadow of a smile
flitted across her face as she used her feet to undo the laces of my muggle Adidas shoes, which my mother made me wear
because they were "good shoes", as she insisted, and anyway, they were on promotion. Buy one get one free. Women.
Come to think of it, they were quite comfortable.
By then, Granger had pulled off my shoes and socks and were toe-strangling mine. Ah…now I understood…she wanted
me that way… (A/N: see how conceited he is?)I sneered. Of course, who wouldn't? Her cool and dry feet rubbed against
mine, massaging the in-between bits slowly. Then, as slowly as she had started up, she halted and put her sneakers back on.
Slightly disappointed, I made to put mine back on too, but she beat me. With astounding effort (though I wasn't about to
admit it), she let out a grunt of exertion and stomped down on my innocent twiddling toes. Oh Holy Merlin! They hurt so
bad…they were on fire…I groaned and whimpered, caressing them and glowering at Granger simultaneously. Then, the
door banged open. We whipped around and stared at the intruding person.
Cast of the story says: (Draco) Oh my poor dear feet. Distraughtsenses, must you really make me suffer like this?
Distraughtsenses says: Of course. Where would be the fun in not?
Cast of the story says: (Draco) Oh but they ache…
Distraughtsenses says: That sucks for you…
Cast of the story says: (Hermione) Haha! Thank you Distraughtsenses…
Distraughtsenses says: You're very welcome, I enjoyed that too.